I Know It's Wrath
by LegolasLover2003
Summary: Looking toward the South has never done Thranduil any good, for the memories it brings up and the fear that rises in his heart are not easily dispelled. Yet, perhaps there are things in this world that the Last Alliance spared them in the reprieve of Sauron's absence. Thranduil finds that within his very halls is a light that even the darkness in his own heart can not deny.


**Title:** _"I Know It's Wrath..."_  
**Author:** LegolasLover2003 aka Ashley  
**Category:** Book - _"The Lord of the Rings"_  
**Genre:** Angst/Adventure  
**Rating:** M  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any rights to _"The Lord of the Rings"_ or _"The Hobbit"_. I just adore them to pieces! Legede is a character of my own invention. You may use him, but please ask permission to do so first.

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"**I Know It's Wrath..."**

* * *

"Hir nin?"

The eyes that gazed into the mirror moved naught. They stared, transfixed... as if searching for something unseen... something hidden just beyond their reach... In slender hands was a golden ring, fashioned into the coils of a serpent that wound round and round like a spring. The fingers toyed with that ring, never putting it on, but instead twisting it between them... while those eyes remained poised... watching... waiting... starring...

It flooded back to him now... those horrors... the sheer fear and terror as his people screamed at the onslaught before those black lands. So much blood had been spilt that day... and for what? A short reprieve? Time to grow complacent, an air of safety and security that cloaked the mind like a deep fog upon the marshes. So many immortal lives cast aside... his father... taken by the very things which came out of the darkness and devoured life whole...

His father... a great king... laid low by foul denizens of the shadow... by the hissing and the screeching and the bellowing... of dragon fire.

"Hir nin?"

He heard not the sound behind... so lost in thoughts as he was. Long fingers reached up to trace the wounds, still fresh in his own memory, though they seemed like a life age ago. He was... marred by the horrors of Mordor... tainted down to his very soul... or so sometimes he feared. Ever since, if he dared look to the south, the fear and the terror would take hold his heart. Long had the Elf tried to shake it... long had he been king of his people... long had he hidden away that which seemed more foul than fair... Long had...

"Thranduil!"

For a moment the Elvenking looked up, recognition in his eyes hard to find. He knew his name of course... but the voice who spoke it...

Quickly, the Lord of the Greenwood, for that was what his kingdom was once known as, slipped the serpent ring back upon his finger. Magic flowed through that small trinket, magic that was governed by the king's will, for there were many magic rings in the world and none should be taken lightly. Blue eyes sparkled back like white jewels glistening in a full moon's light. The marks upon his face faded... committed to memory and hidden away from sight.

Beside him, Legede stepped forward. The white haired captain knelt at his friend and lord's side, for the Elvenking was sitting before a great mirror.

"Thranduil... mellon nin... are you well?" Legede spoke softly, his own blue gaze searching that of the king.

The fair haired Elf nodded, "I am well..." Thranduil replied, letting out a slightly shaky sigh. "Dark, I fear, have been my thoughts this morn, for I saw the south... and I remembered much that should never be spoken... nor forgotten, much as it pains me to remember."

One hand reached up, fingers just hovering over where he knew his fair skin... his face... was forever changed.

Legede smiled softly, reaching one hand out to lay over that of his greatest friend, drawing it away from the wounds. "Your son grows curious, Thranduil. He wishes to know why you do not join the hunts south or north and only ride out with your people to the east and west. One day..."

"One day I will tell him, mellon nin. One day... when he is older and wiser perhaps." the Elvenking smirked slightly. "Then again... it seems foolish to hide away within my halls and pretend this evil does not endure. Our forests darken... and yet all I see are the fires of Mordor and the dragons who took wing at the bidding of Sauron their master and the smoldering flesh of..."

Quickly, Legede shook his head. "Do not speak of it, hir nin." he spoke, the serious tone in his voice wanting the subject dropped completely. "It does your heart no good... nor mine. Oropher was..."

"Lost."

Both Elves looked up to see a boy wander into his father's chambers. Legolas had a rather large smile for an Elfling, his laughter sweet like the falling rain.

"That is what you told me before, ada. Daer-ada was lost." the Elfling replied, walking up to the two.

For his part, Legede stood and sighed slightly, his blue gaze glancing to the Elvenking.

"That I did." Thranduil replied, reaching a hand out to the young one who had invaded his sanctuary. "He was lost long ere you walked this world, tithen pen."

Legede broke the conversation then, "I think, caun nin... that your father wishes to prepare for the day ahead. Come." the captain held out one hand, beckoning the youth to follow him.

At first it seemed like Legolas would comply, but then he stopped and looked back to the king.

Thranduil waved his hand towards Legede. "Go on. I am sure your naneth would like to see you for breakfast this morning... properly dressed for once." the king teased, pointing out the fact that Legolas was still wearing naught but his nightshirt and leggings. "I will be along soon."

Smiling, the Elfling took hold of Legede's hand. A silent _'hannon le'_ was sent from the lips of the Elvenking to his closest friend... and the captain nodded in reply before falling into a story about how the patrols the day before last had found a rather large white deer and her fawn in the forest near the hall.

As Thranduil watched his son laugh and smile at Legede's recounting of the story, it made the Elvenking's heart glad. Such beauty and light there was still to be found in their realm... such beauty and light needed to be protected from the darkness... from the growing shadow...

And again, as was more often than not, Thranduil's blue gaze turned to the south... and he could hear the screams and feel the heat upon his skin... as all the horrors of Mordor crept back into his mind...

Yet... this time, unlike so many others before, that small light struck out and crafted a path of clarity. Not all was hidden in the shadows... not all things were evil...

If but a small reprieve from the darkness had been granted to them... so be it.

* * *

Decades later...  
After once again spending too much time gazing south...

* * *

"Ada!"  
The glass of Dorwinion wine slipped from the Elvenking's fingers as he grabbed the edge of one of the many great pillars in his chambers. It was all he could do to keep the intense pain from his face, all he could do to gather himself... to compose his thoughts... to keep the illusion...

Blue eyes blinked, turning toward the Elf at his side. Legolas stood there, his hands on the Elvenking's arm, fear flickering in the depths of his son's gaze.

"Ada... you..."

"I am fine, ion nin." Thranduil replied, standing straight and tall... proud even in his own chambers... even when the only one to look upon him in that moment was the prince.

Legolas sighed softly, releasing his grasp on his father's arm. He knelt, picking up bits and pieces of the now shattered wine glass.

"Leave it. I will have Galion attend to it later." the king spoke, his blue gaze caught in his own reflection in the glass.

That hideous... grotesque visage that stared back at him... that imperfect manifestation of the might of evil, forever a reminder of pain and suffering and of the dead whom they could not even bury. Seeing it brought the illusion to the forefront of his mind, and soon the wounds hid themselves once more.

The prince's own eyes caught the gaze of his father and he stood, turning to the Elvenking with a small smile. "You were lost in thought." Legolas spoke softly. "Tell me, ada... what distracted you so that you made a misstep on your own rug?"

For that was how it had happened... how the older Elf lost his wine and had to reach out to keep from falling.

"Perhaps the rug is not to blame."

At this, Legolas cocked his head to the side slightly, confused by that statement. Surely he had seen his father stumble on the rug...

The Elvenking offered his son more of a smirk than a smile. "Your patrol's return brought you home from the south. I watched for you... and since then I have not been able to shake my mind of old memories. It is nothing you need concern yourself over, Legolas."

For a time, the prince simply watched his father as the king walked over to a small table and picked up a carafe of wine, carefully pouring it into another glass. The sound of it falling... tinkling along the sides of the cup... was almost painfully loud in the archer's ears. He was straining to sense anything amiss... to try and figure out just what bothered his lord so tonight.

Somehow, the Elvenking took note of this, and he spoke, his back to the younger Elf all the while. "It is none of your concern."

"Is it?" Legolas spoke back quickly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You lost control over it again, ada. Your magic is strong but stronger still is..."

Before the prince could finish that sentence however, the king had turned and strode the few steps that separated them. "You are my son, Legolas, but you speak on things you know nothing about."

For a moment, Legolas stared up at his father... his own blue eyes squinting and gazing upon the face that was more familiar to him than any other in this world. Then, silently, the prince reached up and pressed his fingers against the king's left cheek with the lightest of touches.

"Am I wrong, ada?"

Silence stretched between father and son, and while Thranduil was trying to reign in his emotions with every ounce of willpower he possessed... in his heart, he understood. Legolas had known of the scars for most of his life, though the prince never spoke of them to any. His son understood... just as Legede understood...

"No, Legolas. You are not wrong." the Elvenking replied, swallowing his own pride and vanity for the moment. "You already know there is an illusion on my face. You have always known it."

The prince's gaze focused downward, looking at his father's hands, focusing in on the golden serpent ring upon the elder Elf's left hand. "We open the gates and close the gates with magic. With our blood. Your blood too holds your enchantment and magic. I have seen it before... only in times of great anger or distress... and those are times when you can not control it. Now... now, it does not seem... right. Why?"

At this the Elvenking sighed, removing the ring from his finger as he did so. It was easier that way... then simply willing away the magic. So much simpler to rid himself of that which cast the spell... which made him whole... The illusion fell away and the burned hollowed flesh appeared along the side of Thranduil's face once more, reaching even to his left eye... an eye blinded by the flames of a great worm. The muscles of the Elvenking's jaw seemed melted away, his teeth visible through the flesh and sinew that barely held what remained of his cheek together. The wound would never fully heal and while his life had been spared... his beauty had been stolen away with the single breath of a dragon.

Few had seen the Elf's true visage... fewer still would dare to touch it.  
But Legolas...

"You are far braver than most, ion nin." the king whispered, turning his head slightly so that the warmth of his son's fingers was felt on his marred and pained skin.

Smiling softly, Legolas leaned forward until his forehead touched that of his father. "Bravery has naught to do with it, ada. You are you... nothing changes that."

For a time they stood that way. Neither speaking... but some sort of understanding passing between them. Legolas understood the scars his father bore. He too held scars upon his body, though nothing to compare with the pain of the Elvenking. But unlike the elder Elf... the archer did not need to hide them beyond simply being dressed.

Thranduil smiled softly, slipping the ring back onto his finger. The illusion returned and once more the Elvenking looked just as he had for centuries past... before the darkness of Sauron... before the flames from the north... before...

"Dragon fire, Legolas, is a very hard thing to forget." Thranduil spoke, his soft smile turning sad. "It was that same fire which took your grandfather. I recall it every time I look to the south... for darker do the days grow and so too do I find my own magic falling short in times when it need shine out the clearer. For some time now I have feared what was not brought low and destroyed... perhaps that is what you feel so very wrong with my own enchantments of late, ion nin." softy the king sighed, but then he smiled at the Elf before him. "I would have you never see such a power and a ferocity if it were within my ability to stop it."

The prince smiled softly, "I would not fear it nor the dark lands of the south. I would seek vengeance for what has been wrought by those worms. I would do you and our kin proud, ada."

"Do not seek danger, tithen pen." the Elvenking replied, placing a hand on the archer's shoulder. "I fear, in this day and age, it will find you. We must protect what is ours... and those we love. That is all that matters now."

Nodding, Legolas glanced down to the broken glass upon the floor. "I will send for Galion." he smiled softly, catching his father's gaze before turning and heading back out the door.

For but a moment, Thranduil willed the magic in his ring to fade on more. His blue gaze traveled down to see his reflection in the shattered glass again. He saw the pain in his own face... the torment that had been cast upon him in that black land... He recalled his love of strong wine... how it eased the agony that every word brought forth from his lips caused him... The sight lost to him... to an Elf... the imperfection that adorned his skin... Thranduil remembered just how hot the flames had been... how his father had screamed as the flesh melted from his very bones... How Legede had been the only thing to save the Sindar Elf from his own madness and suffering in those dark days of the Last Alliance upon that battlefield of naught but destruction and death... He recalled how the dark came ever closer, and no matter what Thranduil did... it would not stop...

But then he, almost unbidden, thought of a small Elven boy, with his tuneful laughter and joyful wonderment at the world around him even in these shadowed times... He thought of the child who cared not for the scars that the Elvenking hid away for his own sense of vanity... He thought of the archer who was, even now, doing his father proud...

He thought of his son... and for once... without the aid of enchantments... Thranduil truly smiled.

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**THE END**

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**Sindarin Words To Know:**

hir nin = my lord  
mellon nin = my friend  
caun = prince  
caun nin = my prince  
ada = father  
daer-ada = grandfather  
ion nin = my son  
tithen pen = little one  
naneth = mother

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**Author's Notes:**

- I have a lot of thoughts about Thranduil's scars... some of them are hinted at above but others I plan to delve into more deeply at a later date.

- I started this story at 4am when I got home from seeing "The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug" and to be quite honest I wrote almost all of it by the time I went to bed at 6am. That single moment where Thranduil's face changed... to me, was the most striking moment of the entire movie. It explains so very very much about him.

- Because I know of no actual canon moment when Thranduil would have been present to fight a dragon, I have decided that in my own canon world, that Sauron employed the use of Dragons during the Last Allliance (this was also something that Gandalf, in the first Hobbit film, was afraid would happen with Smaug and thus why he was urging Thorin to deal with the Dragon) which is possible since Morgoth used them in his own battles. What better way to decimate Elvish forces than to send a Dragon before your host of legions? Oropher was killed in the first assault on Mordor, and by the time the war was over, Thranduil only lead back barely a third of his people still alive. It makes perfect sense to me that Oropher could have been slain by a Dragon, and if Thranduil was at his father's side...

- I also think that Thranduil has the power to control his illusion, but I like the idea of one of his many rings helping with that. If you notice, in the film, Thranduil has 4 rings. All are silver except the snake ring (which is gold). I've used the snake ring before in another story, and I really like that ring, so it's Thranduil's magic source for his enchantment. He can either take the ring off to remove the spell, or he can lose control of it, like he did with Thorin, and until he regains control of his own magic, the illusion remains non-existent.

- Big shout out to my friend Kaikoloren for reading this story then suggesting I make it past and future because I seriously was having problems with how it read too fast, hehehe. -hugs-

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**Muse Moments:**

Nil is running around the kitchen making coffee and singing, "And I see fire, inside the mountain. I see fire, burning the trees. I see fire, hollowing souls, I see fire, blood in the breeze. And I hope that..." she stopped suddenly, catching a familiar visage from the corner of her eye. "Don't look at me that way." the woman said as she scooped coffee into the pot. "I didn't disfigure you. That was ALL PJ's doing, Thranduil."  
The Elvenking is standing in the kitchen doorway, watching her with a none-too-amused look on his face. "Indeed."  
"I couldn't have dreamed he would do that... bravo to him for it too. You became such a deeper character with that small little chance he took. Loved it."  
"Well I do not love it!" Thranduil replied, almost shouting.  
Nil winced, "You know there was a time when I feared you... but now I can torment you just as much as I torment Legolas. Oh my how the tables have turned."  
Rage rippled off the Elf in waves as he turned and strode majestically out of sight.  
"You should not antagonize him..." spoke Legolas as he walked in from another door.  
The woman smiled, "Long as you're not telling me not to antagonize "Tauriel", then I think we're good here. Besides... what's the worst that could happen?"  
There is suddenly a very loud crashing sound in the back of the house and Paris comes running out of nowhere. "Thranduil is taking his rage out on your posters!"  
"NOOOOO!"  
Sighing, Legolas watched as Nileregwen and Paris run off to deal with a very pissy Elvenking. The prince sighed, glancing to the coffee pot with a wicked gleam in his blue gaze. Quickly... before it could brew more... he simply threw out the filter with the coffee.  
"Let us see how well you write when you have nothing warm to wake your body and soul..." Legolas spoke with a smirk, before heading out to find entertainment elsewhere.


End file.
